In the doorway.

An incomplete picture of ourselves - holding an image of who we want to be or should be rather than who we are- can lead to so much pain.

This house has flaws. We wave around the photos we took with our best cameras and filters and insist that others are wrong when they point out the water damage.

I am taking stock, going through the old stuff in the back room, sorting through the rot. My heart pounds just to do it.

But God is so kind when our structures start to ripple and bend. People can be kind in reflections of the ways that God is kind, offering small insistent acts of love, even when they know the real thing, not the ideal we so carefully constructed to prove that we were allowed to exist.

Little pats on the arms and face. Feather light presence. Cups of tea. Kind eyes on the weathered and tired walls. The beautiful walls.

God in the doorway, waiting to be asked in.